


Get it right

by SHADOWSQUILL



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Barman AU, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHADOWSQUILL/pseuds/SHADOWSQUILL
Summary: "It was too much for her. Olivia Baxter was a precious and pure woman who deserved better than the burden she had become over the last few months. She was gonna have a better life from now on because Rose had made up her mind."





	Get it right

Maxence was a barman in one of the numerous night clubs of the town. He liked his job. He just didn’t like the place he had been hired in. He wasn’t a fan of night clubs. They were full of noises and the music was awful. The population here wasn’t over 30. Most of the time, they didn’t have over 25. He hated all of them those pretentious brats thinking they were better than him, thinking he should let them drink until they passed out in the toilets. He wasn’t getting many tips from them, but lots of insults. He was doing it for their safety, as much as they hated it. He was also doing it for himself. It was a chore to be directed to clean their mess when they fought or puked because they were too drunk. It had happened a few times and that’s why he hated being in charge of the closing of the establishment.

He was a barman but he wasn’t drinking alcohol. He wasn’t touching that poison because he knew how many damages it could cause to anyone. However, he could understand that some people wanted to forget some things from their lives. It was getting hard out there. Money, war, attacks… He felt like he was living in Hell sometimes. He was sort of detached of it all though. He was working all night and sleeping all day. The only personal drama he had lived in his life happened when he was two years old. He couldn’t remember but he would wear the scars forever. Anyway, he had gotten over it, without the help of alcohol or drugs. Only by fighting and getting a life worth it. Which hadn’t been quite easy. Fate seemed to like betting on him when it came to difficult ordeals. So far, he was a good horse to bet on.

First, he had survived the deadly love of his father who thought that stroking his face with clenched fists and his back with a belt was the right way to raise him. Then, a blood disease had been thrown into his way. He had had to fight it only to be free of it at 20. His teenage years had been ruined by this fight he had to go through with his mother alone since he had no friends. He had been spending most of his time home or in a hospital room, taking meds. Because of that, he had been homeschooled. Reaching the adult life with such a past had been quite hard for him. He had had a lot of small jobs, couldn’t apply to prestigious jobs because, despite the fact he was clever, he only had his A-levels and no one wanted him. Especially since he could have a relapse at any time. It wasn’t easy on him already and this was making him feel worse when he had to face refusal for befuddling reasons.

Of course, he wasn’t telling his mother the struggles he was having to find a job. Joanne had been fighting for him all along his childhood and teenage years, he didn’t want her to have to do it again in his adult life. He wanted to do it by himself. However, fate decided to go against him once again when Joanne caught him reading the classified ads of a newspaper in the pub she thought he was working in. He had had to tell the truth on this one and she had spoken with a friend of her she was having sort of an affair with. That man was very gentle and Maxence was okay with him dating his mother. Obviously, that was giving him some advantages. The man was the owner of a couple nightclubs and he had trained Maxence to be a barman. That’s how he had ended up behind that counter.

Despite the young people looking for troubles with how strict he was with alcohol and drugs, working as a barman in that night club was pretty nice. He could observe people and meet new persons. Something he had never had the chance to in his youth. He wasn’t making friends but he was an excellent listener for everyone who were heavy-hearted. Those people were sometimes very grateful and were giving him a good tip he would later use to buy something he really wanted but couldn’t afford with his normal salary. He couldn’t complain. After years of struggle, he was finally having a stable life and he was healthy. He was always terrified whenever he got a cold, when he was coughing or when his throat hurt but after a few false alarms, he had stopped going to the doctor or the hospital. He was dealing with it all by himself now.

 

x

 

Rose was a young artist who was struggling to find her place in the world. It was quite a hard thing when art was more and more considered as useless and _‘too expensive for what it was’_. How many times had she had heard this when she was trying to sell her paintings? It was frustrating but she never gave up. She believed that one day her talent would be seen, that people would want to have a _‘Bad Wolf’_ in their living room. For now, all her masterpieces were gathering dust in a room of her flat. There was a lot of them in that workshop. It used to be a little studio that was now littered with unsold paintings and art supplies. She should have stopped hoping and trying a long time ago but something was making her continue on that way instead of finding a ‘real’ job. That also was something she had heard too often.

What people didn’t know when they mocked her art and rejected her was the fact that painting was the piece keeping her whole being together. Rose was a mess without her brushes and canvas. She wasn’t speaking to anyone about the weight on her heart, about the things that had happened in her life. Only one person knew about it: Olivia Baxter, her best friend and also girlfriend. Rose was expressing herself in her art. It was giving her some relief to the painful memories. The only relief she could expect in her life. That was why she hadn’t stopped painting when it wasn’t leading her anywhere. With no A-levels and almost no education, she had no chance to get a proper job either. That’s why she was placing so much hope in her art. She was just not living in the right world. She had had this idea in mind since forever.

Rose was an orphan. She had lost her parents when she was just a baby and placed in her orphanage where she had met Olivia. None of them had never been adopted. They had gone from foster families to foster families but they never kept them. When she was sixteen, Rose fell in love with a rebel called Jimmy Stone. He was the one responsible for most of her hardships. Naive teenager that she was, she hadn’t seen the danger he represented until it was too late, until he had her under his yoke. He made her drop her studies, cut herself away from her only friend and when she had no one left, he broke her completely with psychological and physical torture that had left her so scarred she didn’t expect anyone to love her again after that. She was wrong because the only person that had loved her and would always love her was by her side since the beginning.

Olivia, who preferred to be called Liv, had been taken in a foster family when she was fifteen. Around the same time that Rose ran away with Jimmy, leaving her alone behind. Around the end of the year, her foster dad had come into her room and raped her. She was brought to the orphanage a few days later with the excuse that she was a troublemaker. A few weeks after she came back, she had gotten sick. So sick a hospitalisation had been necessary. They had found out she was pregnant and she had gone through a miscarriage. They had made her go through a useless surgery that had caused her to not being able to have children anymore. The foster father was never blamed for this. No one believed Liv. Except for Rose. Rose who had come back to the orphanage after she was saved from Jimmy.

After that day, they became inseparable. Liv had forgiven Rose for giving up on her, for choosing Jimmy over her. A part of her was still afraid that Rose might do it again but she had promised she never would and she had proved it for the fifteen years that had followed. Now they were together in a relationship and they had never been so happy. They were completing each other and understanding each other better than anyone would ever understand either of them. They were sharing a nice flat in town but Liv was the one paying for it all with the small salary she had as a doctor in the public hospital. Rose didn’t have any sort of financial help from the town and no one was accepting her for little jobs. It was becoming hard for her to see Liv working so hard while she was doing nothing, sitting in the middle of paint pots and brushes.

Today again, she found herself sitting in the living room where she was now ‘working’ since her studio was full. There were brushes and paint pots and pots full of water all around her but her canvas was desperately blank. So was her sketch book. Her mind kept going back to Liv who wouldn’t be home before 11 that night. Liv who was exhausted because she worked for two. And Rose couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let her friend kill herself to work for her. This part of her life was over now. She would preserve Liv from suffering more than she had already. It was too much for her. Olivia Baxter was a precious and pure woman who deserved better than the burden she had become over the last few months. She was gonna have a better life from now on because Rose had made up her mind.

She cleaned her mess and cooked a dinner for her friend. She was a bit off. She was thinking about the words she would say to Liv when she would be home. She was gonna break her heart and she hated herself for it. She wouldn’t break her promise though. She would remain her friend, her best friend. Always and forever. She just didn’t want to be a burden for her anymore and so, she had to break up and start living on her own. As much as she hated herself for this sudden decision, she knew it was the right one. For her, for Liv, for their friendship. Liv would be heartbroken of course and Rose felt her own heart break at the thought because she loved the doctor with all her heart. It almost made her change her mind. Almost. She couldn’t go back now. She had to go to the end of it. As much as it hurt.

Liv came earlier than Rose had thought she would. It was barely seven when she heard the front door, when she heard Liv sighing as she got rid of her coat and purse close to the entrance. The doctor was exhausted but she still had enough energy for some tenderness. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and pressed a kiss to her neck. She smiled at Rose’s soft moan of pleasure and placed her head on her shoulder, her eyes closed. Rose’s heart was racing now. She was afraid to make a move, to say a word. She was completely paralysed by the mission she was forcing herself into. She swallowed the lump in her throat and let go of what she was doing. She leant against Liv despite her reason screaming her not to make things harder on her. She really should listen to her instinct sometimes. It would preserve her from troubles.

 

“Long time you haven’t cooked anything,” remarked the doctor. “What does this mean? Any good news?”

“Unfortunately, not,” sighed Rose. “The boss of the last art gallery I’ve sent my work to called this morning. He said my art doesn’t suit their standards.”

 

She hated how her voice broke at the admission of this new failure. It was too much for her to handle. She wasn’t worth anything. She had heard it for thirty years now and she just couldn’t take it anymore. Liv turned her around to face her and softly kissed her head. She tightened her embrace.

 

“I’m sorry, Rosie. I wish I could do more for you.”

“You’re already doing more than you should, Livie. You’re ruining your life for me. I don’t deserve you.”

“Rose.” Liv slipped two fingers under her girlfriend’s chin and gently made her look up. Their eyes met. Rose’s soft amber ones were full of tears she was refusing to let go. “I know this is just a bad period in your life. You’ve been there for me after I was raped, when I had this miscarriage. You’ve been there to help me through the hard times that followed, while I was putting myself back together…”

“We helped each other. I wasn’t better than you.”

“But you were stronger than me.”

“And you’ve overcome every ordeal to become the talented doctor you are now. Look at me, I’ve remained that lost girl with no education and no future.”

“You can still resume your studies. Get your A-levels.”

“I don’t have the money for this.”

 

The more she was speaking, the more the weight of all her failures was falling on her shoulders and crushing her. Liv seemed to feel it since she pressed her lips against the blonde’s and wrapped her tighter in her arms, as if that simple embrace could take away everything that was bothering her. This move made the artist break down and she buried her head into the doctor’s shoulder to hide her tears as her hands gripped the back of her shirt. Liv didn’t move. She just held the trembling body of her girlfriend against her, rubbing her back, kissing her head, murmuring soft words in her ear.

 

“I’m sorry, Livie. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t…”

“Shh. It’ll be okay. You just need to have a break. We should go somewhere and…”

“No.”

 

Rose shook her head and gathered all her courage to look up, to look at Liv in the eyes. She swallowed. It was now or never.

 

“Liv, I can’t always count on you. I gotta find a way to success in life by myself. Knowing that you’re behind me if I fail is reassuring but I won’t go anywhere that way.”

“What…”

“I gotta leave. I gotta find my way. Alone.”

“Are you…”

“Yes.”

 

To be sure she wouldn’t go back on her words, Rose broke their hug and stepped back from Liv. The confusion and sadness were whirling in her green eyes. The artist softly kissed her cheek and grabbed her coat. She left the flat without any other word. It would have been the last straw. She needed some time alone.

 

x

 

The nightclub was full tonight and the music was pounding in the building. Loads of young people were moving along the music. Maxence was observing them all. He wondered what was the point of just coming here to be pressed against people and to pretend to be dancing only to flirt with each other. This was always ending in the toilets with a few minutes of drunk sex. Something that had never happened to him. First because he was the barman and was always sober. Second because no one, man or woman, was looking at him or flirting with him. He had quite a look too with his weird shaped nose and big ears, the light wrinkles around his eyes and the large forehead. Sometimes, he wondered what it felt like to be one of those handsome guys all the women wanted. But he just couldn’t see himself as one of them.

Maxence sighed and adjusted the earplugs in his ears. Not only was he having big ears but they were also very sensible to the noise and he had to wear those earplugs not to become deaf or suffering from tinnitus and migraines. Once again, he wasn’t complaining. He had a job, that’s all that mattered. He served a newly formed couple – he had seen them ‘dancing along the music’ before the woman snogged the boy at least ten years younger than her – with two cocktails he had invented during his free time. They were very appreciated. That was why is boss had added them on their board and insisted on the fact that he was free to create more if it was working so well. Everything to bring more money in. He was usually earning a percentage on the sales. A sort of reward for his hard work in this place.

As no one seemed to come around the bar for now, he decided to try something new. He watched the people, picked a couple of them and associated them to alcohol. Even if he wasn’t drinking any alcohol, he knew what he was doing. Some drinks couldn’t be mixed and some others just went perfectly together, as surprising as it could be. He was filling a shaker when that blonde woman sat down at the bar right in front of him. He hadn’t seen her on the dance floor. He would have noticed her earlier if she had been in that crowd. She didn’t look like a woman that would go unnoticed by all the men hunting their next prey here. She was rather small but her clothes were suggesting curves that would make any man around here go mad to stroke them. She was not a natural blonde, or she was having strands done on her.

Maxence poured the new drink in the appropriate glass and added ice cubes, a straw and one of those stupid paper umbrellas. He pushed the glass containing a lovely pink fluid toward her. She hadn’t ordered anything but it would come. She wasn’t like any of the people around here. He would recognise her behaviour anywhere though. He had seen and served hundreds of them before. The heartbroken. Not only was he dealing with new couples that would last a few hours, but he also had to deal with heartbroken people who had just broken up with their long companion or who had just been dumped. Being a barman often guaranteed you a therapist training.

 

“So what’s the name?” he asked her.

 

Those were the first words he asked the heartbroken people. Usually, they were the first ones to speak, saying how they were feeling rough, how they needed something strong to drink. She raised her head, looking up at him, who was leaning on the counter on his crossed arms, and her whiskey brown eyes met his.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard what he was saying. The music was also covering his voice.

 

“Who is responsible for the pain I see on your face?”

“Oh,” simply said Rose, looking down again. “The name’s Liv. But I’m the one who hurt her by breaking up.”

“Sounds like you loved her a lot.”

 

She looked at him again. His eyes weren’t showing any kind of judgement and it felt weird to her who had always been judged for everything. He wasn’t even showing any reaction to her being a lesbian. For that too, she was used to be judged.

 

“I did. Still do.”

“Why the breaking up then?”

 

He arched his eyebrows in surprise and that showed wrinkles on his large forehead. Rose was finding him cute. Gentle and cute. He was different from everyone she had known so far. It was a change.

 

“That’s a complicated story. Let’s say I just needed to do things by myself for once.”

“That’s something I can understand.”

 

Always counting on someone wasn’t the best of plans. His mother was behind him because of his past. She was helping him and overprotecting him because of his disease that could come back at any time. He was her only son and she wanted the best for him. But he knew that he had to do things on his own. For his sake.

 

“Got something interesting to drink here?”

“A couple. I’ve just created this cocktail. Still lookin’ for a name.”

 

He pointed to the pink drink in front of her. She looked at it, intrigued. He pushed it toward her with the tip of his forefinger.

 

“It’s on the house. Tell me what you think.”

“It’s not some sort of flirting, heh?”

“I’m the most awkward with people barman you’ve met. I don’t flirt. I don’t drink.”

“So you offer drinks to people to socialise. That’s a good plan.”

“Only if the drinks are drinkable.”

 

She chuckled. This man, this stranger, was making her smile when she wanted to drink and cry until she passed out on the counter. It was the first time she was coming here but it probably wouldn’t be the last. Her lips circled the straw and she sipped a bit of the pink fluid. She closed her eyes and let a moan that was inaudible with the music.

 

“That thing is _fantastic_! How do you do that?”

“That is my secret,” he replied with a grin.

 

She felt her heart flutter and warmth filled her to the core. That man wasn’t handsome, not in her book, or anyone else’s book, but he was gentle, polite and his smile was precious.

 

“You’ll have to tell me more, mister.”

“The name’s Maxence. Max for short.”

“Pretty cool. I’m Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. You’re approving of that cocktail then?”

“Totally approving.” She took another sip. “You should call it Olivia.”

“Why?”

“That’s the full name of my best friend,” Rose shrugged. “And she’s an amazing woman.”

“And she’s the one you’ve just broken up with.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not wonderful.”

“But I don’t know her.”

“I do and I’m the first one to taste it. Doesn’t it give me a right on the name?”

“Alright. ‘Olivia’ that is. If it works, it’ll be on the board soon.”

 

New customers came to the counter and he had to serve them. He occasionally glanced at Rose who was enjoying her ‘Olivia’ and smiling at him whenever she caught his eyes on her. She couldn’t say goodbye to him as he was away when she left the nightclub pretty tipsy but she put the little money she had left in his tip’s jar. It was the only one to be empty. She wondered why. Maxence was a very nice guy.

 

x

 

Rose came every night for a full week after that talk they had. She wasn’t drinking – couldn’t afford it – except when he was offering her the cocktails he was creating. She was staying past the closing time to help him with cleaning the place and when he was offering to accompany her back home, she was afraid to tell him that she was sleeping in her car since she had broken up with Liv. Liv who was calling her to have some news. But Rose wasn’t answering. She couldn’t face her, couldn’t face her pain, couldn’t face her begging to have her back. She wasn’t telling any of this to Maxence. They were speaking of everything but not about Rose’s past relationship.

 

“Tell me, Max, how do you create those cocktails?”

 

Maxence threw the tea towel on his shoulder and leant on the counter for Rose to hear him speak. She was always amazed how he could hear her despite the music and his earplugs. He had joked on the fact it was his superpower.

 

“It’s easy. Look at those people,” he pointed to the dance floor. “I see each one of them as a different alcohol.”

“That’s obviously a barman thing.”

“Obviously.”

“And then?”

“If I find that a couple of them goes well together, I pick the alcohol and try the mix.”

“And what if it’s disgusting?”

“I’m the one cleaning the mess. And so far, you’re the only one who’ve tried my cocktails and you haven’t been sick.”

“You’ve been lucky.”

“I’m gifted.”

“You think you’re so impressive.”

“But I am so impressive!” he retorted, offended.

 

He stood up straight and went to serve new persons. When he came back to her, he had unbuttoned the first buttons of his black shirt and Rose could see some points tattooed on his skin around his neck and shoulder. She pointed on it.

 

“Cancer?”

 

Maxence looked down on what she was showing him and his smile disappeared. He buttoned his shirt back up – some drunk customers liked trying to undress him and he had to let them do – and didn’t answer yet. He pretended to clean the counter.

 

“I’m sorry, Max. That’s none of my business.”

“Remission. For fifteen years.”

 

His voice didn’t have that playful tone he usually had when they were speaking and she noticed his hand trembling on the towel he was using to clean the counter. It was a sensitive subject. She shouldn’t have spoken about this.

 

“Quite a fighter, me.”

“Good,” she said with a small smile. “Wouldn’t want my second best friend to disappear suddenly.”

 

Her words surprised him and he dropped the towel he was holding. He darted his icy blue eyes on her and she could read the surprise he was feeling. He wasn’t used to people being his friend obviously. He grinned at her and she gave him that tongue poking smile that was her signature. He served a few other customers – Friday always brought loads of people – and came back to her. He leant on the counter and his lips got closer to her ear. For a moment, she thought he was gonna kiss her, but he did nothing of this sort.

 

“That man at the other side of the counter is literally devouring you with his eyes.”

 

Rose pretended to laugh at his words and replaced a strand of her behind her ear to discreetly look at the man in question. He was sat at the very end of the counter with a glass of what seemed to be whiskey. He indeed wasn’t taking his eyes off of her. He was kinda cute with his blonde hair and black hoodie. Someone all the girls would want around, but Rose preferred a barman over a playboy.

 

“What do you associate him with?”

“One I never use for the sake of my customers.”

“Which means?”

“ _Everclear_. Colourless, odourless, tasteless.”

“Are you deducting it all from just his looks?”

“ _Everclear_ is one of the strongest alcohol on the market. Could kill you with one sip.”

“I think I’m gonna take the challenge.”

“Oh, she loves danger.”

 

 _A bit too much maybe_ , she thought to herself as she made her way to the pretty boy – Harold, he introduced himself. She could see Maxence was disappointed in her choice but since he wasn’t making any move himself… Harold was charming and she entered his game. It was stupid of her to be playing that drinking game, to get wasted with a stranger. A part of her hoped that Maxence would stop her from sinking her still broken heart in that stupid and dangerous game but he was back at cleaning the counter and serving people. He was bringing them whatever Harold was ordering him – who was being nice to Maxence but Rose could feel a disguised disdain behind his words. At least, she could feel it at first but the more she was drinking the shots of alcohol Harold ordered, the more she was losing it.

Rose hated losing the control, especially with strangers. She knew all too well where it was leading her to. So, she faked an urgent need to pee to get away from this man she barely knew. She slipped a few pounds under her glass for Maxence. She intended to sneak through the back door after a few minutes. Harold was a nice man but something about him was giving her the chills and she preferred leaving before it went all wrong. She had had that feeling with Jimmy before and she didn’t want to experience that again. Harold tried to hold her back but she promised him she would be back and ordered an ‘Angela’ to Maxence to prove her point. Earlier, she had explained to him that the barman was creating cocktails and giving them girls’ names. Harold had said that it was ridiculously pervert and Rose had retorted that she didn’t mind the name as long as she could drink it.

Harold reluctantly let her go and she made her way to the woman’s bathroom. After a full week here, she knew the place well enough to find her way alone through the crowd. She felt Harold’s eyes on her until she disappeared in the bathroom. She locked herself in a booth and sat down on the toilet seat, sighing shakily. She hoped Maxence had understood her message, that Harold wouldn’t come after her to _‘see if she was alright’_. Why had she done something as stupid as flirting with someone? Someone she was told was dangerous? She closed her eyes as the world was spinning around her. Too much alcohol. She had to go back to her car quickly. She slowly got up and stopped in her tracks when she heard Harold’s voice. He had come to see if she was okay. She was screwed.

 

x

 

Maxence took the empty glasses and shooters left by Harold and Rose and put them in the sink to wash them later. He grabbed the money on the counter and looked at it, confused. Rose never put money here usually. She was filling his tips jar with the little she had. All evening, she had let Harold bought her drinks and Maxence had seen her getting dangerously drunk. He wouldn’t allow them to have any more alcohol. Rose knew his rule about drunk people. That’s why he didn’t understand why she had ordered another drink when she clearly had enough. He slipped the money in his pocket and washed the glasses. He dried them and put them back on the selves behind him. It was the end of the night. The closing time was coming and people were slowly leaving the place. But neither Rose or Harold had come back.

He had observed them all evening. He couldn’t understand why Rose had chosen to spend that night with Harold when he had told her he wasn’t a good guy. Maxence personally knew him. They had lived in the same district and the rare times he could go out, Maxence had been bullied by Harold. Later, he had found out that the kid was into all sort of traffics. A bad guy you didn’t want your friend to get involved with. So Maxence wasn’t jealous of their new friendship, he was just worried. Worried of what Harold could do to Rose. Rose had glanced at him a couple of times and he had just given her a small polite smile. However, when she had insisted on him giving her an ‘Angela’ before pretexting she was going to the bathroom was leaving him dubitative. What had she meant by an ‘Angela’? He had nothing of that name on his board.

He rubbed his face and cleaned his area. The bouncers were intervening in a fight. More and more people were leaving. Maxence added a couple of empty glass bottles in the crates under the counter. That’s when he saw the note they had tapped here a few months ago. His heart sank. ‘Angela’. Rose had given him the code name and he hadn’t been able to understand. Immediately, he jumped over the counter and ran to the women’s bathroom. No one. He opened the back door that was going into a small alleyway where they were parking the bins. He heard her voice before he saw them. Harold had pinned her against the wall and was holding her wrists above her head with a hand as the other was stroking Rose’s skin under her shirt. His lips were busy kissing – was he biting instead? – the tender skin of her neck.

Maxence grabbed him by his hoodie and pushed him away, placing himself between Rose and Harold who was stumbling back. He smirked when he saw Maxence.

 

“The little sick boy has grown up! But is he still the little mummy’s boy who couldn’t fight?”

 

Harold didn’t give him any time to answer and ran on him. Maxence took the first blow but didn’t fall. He pushed Harold away. Behind him, Rose was trembling, hugging herself. She couldn’t believe she had fallen into that trap again when she was told the man was dangerous. Now she was watching her friend and her almost second rapist fought. One for her safety, the other one just for the pleasure of hurting someone. Harold obviously had the advantage and Maxence was just defending himself. She remarked he wasn’t hitting Harold at all. He was just taking the blows. She forced herself out of her catatonic condition and ran inside the night club to get some help. Harold threw Maxence to the ground and kicked him in the ribs. He was laughing but Maxence was no fun because he wasn’t fighting back.

 

“So what? That’s all you’ve got?”

 

Maxence tried to get up. He was coughing and spitting blood. He would need a stop by the hospital for sure. Harold kicked him in the ribs again before he was pinned to the ground by one of the bouncers. Rose helped Maxence up.

 

“Why have you done this?” she reprimanded him.

 

She had been so scared for him as he was being beaten by Harold and just not hitting back. She helped him to her car and drove him to the closest hospital to be sure he was okay. The doctor knew him well. The exams were complete. He was better than he actually looked. A few bruises, a split lip, cracked ribs. He would be better in a couple of days but he couldn’t go back to work until next week. It would give him some time off which hadn’t happened in a while but he was bothered by this decision because he was gonna have to find someone to replace him. He needed to call his boss. Rose insisted on driving him back to his home and staying over that night to be sure he was okay. However, once they were sat around a cup of tea, her nerves gave in throwing her into a fit of tears and panic that he had to calm down before he tucked her into his bed for her to get some rest.

He grabbed her phone from her pocket. An old thing. Something you didn’t see much anymore with all those smartphones. It made things easier for him. He looked through her contacts and found the person he was looking for. He pressed the call button and went back in the kitchen, putting the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello. Sorry if I’m bothering you or waking you up. I’m Maxence. Maxence Spitz. I’m with your friend, Rose. Something happened tonight. She needs you. Please come quick.”

 

x

 

Less than an hour after he left the message on her voicemail, Olivia Baxter showed up at his door. She first thought he was responsible, that he had done something to Rose but she realised soon enough that the man was nothing like she had imagined him to be. Pretty banged up from rescuing Rose, he was being honest with her, telling her that Rose had come everyday to the nightclub he was working in but had never gotten drunk until tonight. They had only spoken and that’s how he knew about her. When she saw that Rose was unharmed, she was relieved and she didn’t want to wake her friend up so Maxence offered her a cup of tea. Olivia – who preferred being called Liv for her own reasons like Rose had said to him – told him a bit more about hers and Rose’s relationship. It was obvious to him that the two women loved each other dearly and one couldn’t live without the other.

Rose woke up when she heard Liv’s voice and wondered for a moment where she was before she ran into her friend’s arms. Liv wrapped her into a tight embrace and Rose apologised between two sobs. She never wanted what had happened. She never wanted to break up with her girlfriend but she didn’t know how else she could go on her own way if Liv was always assuming everything for her.

 

“You know, I’m the manager of a nightclub which is always full. I can see with my boss if you can exhibit some of your work there.”

 

Once, he had caught her drawing on a paper towel and asked her if she was an artist or something. She had seemed sad at first but she had showed some of her work. She was talented, no doubt on that. And the spark of hope he saw in her eyes was enough for him to know he was doing the right thing.

As soon as he could, he gave a call to his boss to tell him about what had happened and he spoke about Rose. The boss wanted some pictures Maxence gladly sent through mail and he was captivated. That’s why Maxence came over to the women’s flat – they were back at dating and living together – to pick the pieces of work she had chosen to exhibit. He accepted their help to hang them around the nightclub. At first, it didn’t work much and Rose was having a breakdown again. Maxence did the first move. He bought one of Rose’s frames twice the price she wanted him to pay. He advertised her work so much that people started getting interested and ordered her new stuff. She was finally having the recognition of her art she deserved and Maxence was teaching her how to be a barmaid during their free time. Rose’s life was taking a good turn and she celebrated with her girlfriend around an ‘Olivia’ she made herself…


End file.
